Harry Potter and the Archway of Time
by Dan C Knight
Summary: Harry follows Sirius through the Veil...and finds himself back in his eleven year old body on Dudley's birthday.


**Harry Potter and the Archway of Time**

**By:** Dan C. Knight

**Chapter One:** New Beginnings

_(In which a tragedy is perceived to have occurred; a dog is depressed; a boy makes his escape; a goblin is sceptical; and a key is reclaimed)_

* * *

**I**

_Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light. He was laughing at her._

_"Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing across the cavernous room. The second jet of light hit him directly on the chest. The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock._

_Harry released Neville, though he was unaware of doing so. He was jumping down the steps again, pulling out his wand, as Dumbledore too, turned towards the dais._

_It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall; his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch._

_Harry saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather's wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind, then fell back into place._

_Harry heard Bellatrix Lestrange's triumphant scream, but knew it meant nothing - Sirius had only just fallen through the archway, he would reappear from the other side any second..._

_But Sirius did not reappear._

_"SIRIUS!" Harry yelled. "SIRIUS!"_

_He had reached the floor, his breath coming in searing gasps. Sirius must be just behind the curtain, he, Harry, would pull him back out..._

_But as he reached the ground and sprinted towards the dais, Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back._

_"There's nothing you can do, Harry -"_

_"Get him, save him! He's only just gone through!"_

"_- it's too late, Harry."_

_"We can still reach him -" Harry struggled hard and viciously, but Lupin would not let go..._

_"There's nothing you can do, Harry... nothing... he's gone."_

"IMPEDIMENTA!" Harry yelled the curse, pointing his wand at Lupin. The surprised werewolf spun away from Harry, releasing him from his hold. Harry sprinted to the veil, diving for it just as he heard Dumbledore shout, "HARRY! NO!"

He felt the worn, tattered surface of the veil slide past his face. Passing through the archway, the voices he had heard earlier returned in full force. Louder and louder they got, almost painful in their intensity. The room on the other side of the arch got dimmer and dimmer, and the voices louder and louder, though he still could not discern specific words.

Everything went black.

Harry woke with a start. He heard a sharp rapping on a hard surface nearby, echoing in the small space he found himself in.

"Up! Get up! Now!"

* * *

**II**

Sirius awoke with a start. Blinking as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he looked about at the stone walls surrounding him, a locked metal door blocking the only exit to the small cell. As a horrified realisation came upon him, Sirius launched himself at the door, trying futilely to wrench it open.

He gasped as the cold hit him, his worst memories assaulting his mind, all the wrongs done to him in the past, Bellatrix's triumphant face as she sent him through the fabled Veil of Death.

Then he realised. Bellatrix had sent him through the Veil. He was dead, and this didn't look like Heaven. He was in Hell. For causing the death of his best friend, for not being there for Harry, and for showing off and allowing Bellatrix to kill him, he was in Hell.

As the waves of despair crashed over him, Sirius Black lifted his head and howled.

* * *

**III**

Harry Potter was currently a very bemused young boy. As he quickly wolfed down his bacon, he watched amusedly as Dudley did exactly the same things that Harry remembered him doing. Somehow, he'd gone back in time. Harry guessed it had something to do with that archway in the Department of Mysteries, but he was damned if he knew how it had happened. Especially the convenience of it – the time travel he was experienced with allowed you to be in two places at once. This method had merely sent his soul back, it seemed.

He pondered to himself. Harry desperately needed to get to Gringotts. He would be damned if he was going to spend the next two months in a cupboard. If he got to the bank, he could access his vault, and find a hotel or bed and breakfast to stay in. If he had no intention of returning to the Dursleys, he could get himself some new clothes as well.

Harry listened absently as the Dursleys argued about taking him to the zoo. Then he perked up – this was his chance!

Three hours later, Harry and the Dursleys pulled up inside the car park of London Zoo. As the Dursleys made their way to the entrance, Harry dropped back slightly. When they went inside the front building, he took his shot.

Turning left at the doors instead of heading inside, Harry briskly walked to the entrance of Regent's park and set off down the main path. Forty-five minutes later, he was standing outside of the Leaky Cauldron.

Here, he had to be careful. One careless glance in his direction, and his cover would be blown. Nervously flattening his hair down over his scar, he stepped inside. Walking quickly and sticking to the shadows, he headed to the door at the back of the pub, and made it outside without anyone noticing him. Fortunately, a large group of people was just ahead of him, and so he was able to make it through the portal into Diagon Alley with no problem.

* * *

**IV**

Harry entered Gringotts, and queued in front of the nearest teller. Fifteen nerve-wracking minutes later, it was Harry's turn.

"Excuse me sir," he politely asked, "I'm afraid that I've mislaid my key. Is it possible to get a new one?"

The goblin looked up at Harry with a stern expression. "Young man, those keys are precious and unique. If you are going to be so careless, perhaps your parents shouldn't have given you a vault in the first place. Speaking of, where are they? I need to speak with them to gain their permission to perform a key recall."

"Sir, my parents are dead. It's actually their vault, and my inheritance that I'm trying to access."

"Really?" the goblin looked sceptical. "And what, may I ask, is your name?"

"Harry Potter."

The goblin raised an eyebrow, regarding the small boy in front of him. Harry was hardly the dashing hero that he had been depicted as in countless stories since Hallowe'en 1981. Sighing, Harry brushed his fringe aside slightly, exposing his scar to the goblin, whose eyes widened.

Abruptly, the goblin placed a 'closed' sign on his desk and then jumped down from his stool, beckoning to Harry. "This way, Mr. Potter...if Mr. Potter you be." Harry followed as the goblin led him into a small room off the main lobby. A large plaque on the door proclaimed it to be the 'Vault Reclamation Suite'. Inside was an ornate, carved wooden desk which the goblin sat behind, gesturing to Harry to take the chair in front.

As Harry sat down, the goblin reached into a drawer on the desk, and removed a small box, no bigger than a ring case, with a small indentation on the lid. He started to hand the box to Harry, then stopped. "You are aware, of course, the penalties for attempting to claim a vault not your own?" the goblin inquired. Harry shook his head. Sighing, the goblin explained. "Any wizard or witch who attempts to claim a vault not their own becomes, by law, a prisoner of the bank. A trial is set before a goblin court, and if found guilty of wilfully attempting to steal from the bank, is sentenced to either death or community service. Needless to say, community service inside Gringotts is a lot harsher than would be if sentenced by the Wizengamot."

"Now, knowing this, do you still wish to claim the Potter trust key?" That brought Harry up short. "Trust? As in a trust vault? Does that imply a family vault?"

The goblin sighed. "I cannot discuss this with someone whose ownership of said vault or vaults is still in question. However, your confusion makes one thing clear to me. You are not the Potter heir, and as you did not actually make the attempt to claim the key, I will be lenient, and let you off with a warning. Now, I am a very busy goblin, please leave. Good day." And with that, he put the small box back into the drawer, and stood in an obvious gesture of dismissal.

Harry, however, was not to be deterred, and remained seated. "Sir, I am the Potter heir. Until recently, I was raised by muggles who refused to tell me anything of my family, my heritage or of the magical world. As such, I am ignorant of exactly what I own. I still wish to claim my key."

Sighing, the goblin sat back down, and pushed a small button under his desk. A door in the side of the room opened, and an armed goblin stepped out, taking position just behind Harry.

"So be it," said the goblin. "However, my inclination to leniency is done. If you fail, Ripclaw here will be happy to show you to our cells." Harry glanced behind him, and saw the guard's bloodthirsty grin. He gulped, and turned back to the goblin in front of him, and the small box that was now on the desk before him.

"Just hold the box, and push your thumb into the indentation," Harry was told. "If you truly are the Potter heir, the box will open, and your key will be inside. If you are not, the box will either open to show any keys you do own, or will not open at all and flash red. If this happens, Ripclaw will be showing you goblin hospitality."

Harry picked up the box, and pressed his thumb into the indentation. He gasped in pain as a small needle flicked out and pricked his thumb before retracting. Harry and the goblins waiting for a couple of seconds, then the box flashed gold, and a drawer slid out of the side to reveal a finely wrought golden key that Harry instantly recognised.

"Well, well, well," mused the goblin. "You are the Potter heir after all. My apologies, Mr. Potter. The Potters are some of Gringotts' oldest and wealthiest clients, and we take security very seriously." He nodded at the guard, who saluted and walked back out of the room.

Harry grinned. "Don't worry about it, sir. I'm pleased that you take good care of my inheritance."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter. Now, I believe you had a question for me."

"Yes. Can you tell me exactly what I own?" Harry asked.

The goblin frowned. "No, I cannot. The contents of our vaults are entirely the customer's own responsibility. We cannot breach customer privacy to carry out inventories of the vaults."

"Hmm," said Harry. "Can you tell me how many vaults I own?" "Certainly," said the goblin. He pulled a piece of parchment from the same drawer as the key box. "Just touch your key to this parchment, and it shall list all vaults that you are entitled to access."

Harry did so, and three vault numbers appeared on the parchment, along with a short description.

"Let's see...one trust vault, one family storage vault, and one family monetary vault. This is much as I expected, Mr. Potter. Though, you may be eligible for more vaults. A lot of family lines ended before you vanquished the Dark Lord, and due to the...intermarrying of various families, you may be the heir of some of these lost lines."

"Wow," said Harry. "I had no clue. Is that likely?" "Not really. We tell everyone this when they first access an inherited vault. Money left in vaults is money that cannot be used by the bank, or the economy, after all. If you wish to find out, however, I suggest a trip to the Ministry office of Heritage and Records is in order. Now, do you have any more business in Gringotts bank?"

"Er...yes, please. I would like to visit the family storage vault, and then my trust vault to withdraw some money." Harry wanted to visit the storage vault since it was first mentioned. He was sure he would find relics of his parents in there.

"Certainly, Mr. Potter. This way." The goblin walked out of the room, heading for the carts. Harry followed him eagerly.


End file.
